


Le Bien Qui Fait Mal (The Good Thing That Hurts)

by Summer Pinkleton (The_Ending_Sea)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ending_Sea/pseuds/Summer%20Pinkleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cass Emerson, after many years away, has come back to Beacon Hills with her son. -- I suck at summaries. But just take a read and give me some feedback. I hope it entertains you</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Say Something

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in Teen Wolf, although I wish I did. I do, however own my O.C. and hope that you enjoy my addition to the story.

****

Seeing her best-friend and his girlfriend playing tonsil hockey had not been on Cass’s ‘To Do’ List for that Friday. All she had wanted to do was get to her locker, lug her books home, hole herself in her room, pretend to study and then pass-out, face-first onto her pillow after a good night’s worth of corny movies and junk food.

Assessing the situation; that didn’t seem possible at the moment.

Cass bit back the bile that she felt rising in the back of her throat as the blonde caught her gaze with a smile.

She had spent two weeks, successfully avoiding the brunet, which was now molded against the other female, his hands moving like wildfire across her chest. Tongue darting and _was that a line of drool?_

Her fingers raking through his dark locks.

Cass felt her cheeks warm and bit the bottom of her lip, glancing awkwardly at her beaten-up red converses. Cass felt her eyes narrow and told herself it was because of the dirt that seemed to cake itself on against the red cloth.

_She was not going to back down. Today was going to be the day! Cass halted in her steps towards the bleachers. What if this turned sour? … She knew that he wouldn’t feel that way… but…_

_The auburn-haired teen remembered with a wince of how Jennifer Christopherson, who had been friends with Derek since fifth grade, had confessed her feelings for him at the start of sophomore year._

_Jennifer had been a blonde Barbie with sparkling, blue eyes and a sickeningly sweet sunshine-bright personality. There was always a cause that she was fighting for and she was the class president that still managed to get straight A’s.  And like many girls that came after Paige, Jennifer got her poor heart crushed by the boy that was Cass’s best-friend._

_She could still see Jennifer’s puffy, blue eyes filled with tears and makeup streaking down her cheeks._

_Cass had not been particularly close with the bottle-blonde yet she could not help but feel for the poor girl._

_What if that was going to happen to her?_

_No._

_It couldn’t happen._

_Unlike the others, she reasoned, Cass didn’t necessarily want a relationship. All she wanted to do was tell Derek how she felt; this feeling she couldn’t get rid of, this feeling she’s had for three months, this feeling she was tired of having._

_So maybe… if she confessed…_

_She took a deep breath and continued on towards the bleachers, slightly afraid, slightly hopeful._

_There was the usual brown head, body decked in black. She felt herself smile, despite her anxiety._

_There was a blur of burning gold and then the head full of brown hair tilted to the left._

_She couldn’t look anymore._

Peaking up through her bangs, Cass could see why he had not bothered to resist the ash-blonde beauty.

Kate Argent could only be the girl you dreamed up at night, lurking in a boy’s wet fantasy. Kate stood tall, with her head high and full of ash-blonde ringlets. Her breasts were full and high, her hips slim. She had piercing, coffee-brown eyes, which never held any warmth but were a lovely shade nonetheless.

The Argent girl could have had her pick of any of the boys at Beacon Hills High. There were lines of them, waiting for the blonde to choose, shouting “Pick Me! Pick Me!” Kate, very obviously, picked Derek. Not so surprisingly,  Derek had picked Kate right back.

Cass sighed inwardly before turning on her heel; she could always pretend to have a stomach virus.

* * *

 

“Aren’t you going to get that?” the raven-haired teen groaned, his face buried deep in one of the couch pillows, his head throbbing from the night before. He turned his head and caught sight of the small red-head huddled over a navy-colored book, squinting behind black-rimmed glasses, crouched in the window seat.

“Cass!”

“Hm?”

“The phone; it’s ringing.”

“So?”

“Come on Cassi! It’s probably Derek.”

It had been two more weeks and Cass was starting to get used to “flying solo.” Sure, it was a little lonely, and to be honest, Cass hated being alone but in a way it was refreshing. …Who was she kidding…? She missed her best friend. Mario Kart had not been the same with him.

“Then I’m definitely not answering,” came her reply, devoid of emotion, her fingers dancing to the bottom of the page.

Orion raised an eyebrow and slowly lifted himself up from the beige cushions.

His little sister never let the phone ring for so long, especially not when it could be Derek.

Now, Orion didn’t particularly agree with his sister’s friendship with the Hale boy. However, the families, because of the two, were closer than before and _Laura Hale was pretty hot_.

 “Are you sick?”

“My not answering the phone does not count as an illness. However, stupidity does.”

“Come on, Cass. “

“If the ringing is bothering you so much, then why don’t you answer it?” Cass asked, throwing down her book, her feet darting for the floorboards.

“Where are you going?”

 “Away from you and that damn phone!”

* * *

 

“You’re avoiding Derek.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Cass stuttered out as she pulled a textbook from her cluttered locker. “I’m not avoiding him.”

Laura narrowed her eyes at the faltering heartbeat.

“I’ve just been busy, you know?” Cass offered lamely. “I have practice and drama. Then there’s homework. Don’t even get me started on Stiles.”

“What the fuck is a Stiles?”

“My nephew. He insists on being called Stiles. Don’t bother asking why because I wouldn’t have an answer.”

 “But Derek says that you haven’t been answering the phone.”

“I’m not always home to answer it.” Cass shrugged as she started to move around her friend and towards the library.

Laura grabbed hold of the red-head’s freckled arm. “Nova, we bot—“

“And when did Derek Hale become my mom, huh?”

 “This is about Derek and the Argent girl, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Listen I’m not happy about it either but ---“

“I could care less about that.”

“Oh come on.”

“I’m telling you: it’s not that.”

“And I’m telling you that it is.”

“My life doesn’t revolve around fucking Derek Hale and his fucking exploits! He can date whoever he wants!”

Laura grimaced as her friend wrenched her arm away and turned on her heel.  “Nova! Come back here!”

But the red-head didn’t turn around, she continued down the hallway.


	2. Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Family Reunion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing in Teen Wolf: yet I dream of what it would be like if I did. I only own my characters. Please enjoy the story. Feedback is welcomed.   
> Also the lines stand for gaps. And the story changes POV from time to time. Hopefully, I've shown the true colors of the character and it will be obvious.

 

_Shit!_ The living room and kitchen lights of the Stilinski household were on. The shadow of what seemed to be a car was parked in the driveway. And Stiles Stilinski was late, yet again. Damn Scott McCall and his stupid werewolf problems. At first it was cool but… Who was he kidding? It was still cool. But this was the fifth time in a row that he was coming home past curfew.

Sure, it was his birthday, well close to his birthday, an hour till midnight and then it was his birthday. Then again, he doubted his father would remember something like that. The man was always bad with dates. Stiles didn’t know how a father would manage to forget the day his only son was born but at least he remembered his age, though only vaguely.

…Was his dad going senile?

… Stiles hated celebrating his birthday anyways.

However, this still did not change the fact that lights were on and his father was home.

Stiles had been hoping that the elder Stilinski had gotten called back to his job at the police department or at least be having a poker night, like he so randomly did. Yet Lady Fate was not on his side tonight.

He muttered to himself quickly as he made his way up the driveway and towards his house’s front door. He blew air through his lips as he poked a hole into each wild story his mind had begun to throw at him the moment he parked his Jeep. For once Stiles couldn’t come up with a semi-valid excuse.

 He held his breath, hoping that his father was somehow asleep, though that would be near to impossible. His father could never sleep with the lights on.

He could hear it now as he opened the door. _STILES!!_ He could see that little vein on his father’s forehead pulse and throb, growing larger and larger; filling the house, expanding over the state, the vein would later cover the world, hitting space seconds later. And B **OOM**! … _Dad with no head._

Okay, maybe it wasn’t that serious but still it could get pretty bad.

 “Look Dad, I know I’m late but I can explain!” Stiles began as he made his way into the living room, dropping to his knees, sacrificial lamb style.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a voice called out from behind him

Stiles immediately turned around to see his Aunt Cass, leaning in the doorway, blowing over a green mug with a small yellow balloon painted on it, which reeked of ginger and chocolate with laughing, grey-blue eyes and wild, red hair. She was dressed in a giant yellow shirt that reached down to her knees and red flannel pajama pants that pooled over her black monster-feet slippers.

Stiles got up from his knees and rubbed his pant legs of any dirt he had accumulated on his person while in the forest.

“Love the fashion-statement, O Soulless one.” Stiles quipped as he made his way into the kitchen and into the fridge, grinning as he saw out of the corner of his eye, his aunt bristle. “Where’s dad?” he asked, not at all that shocked at his aunt’s reappearance.

Cass always had that way about her that made everyone just nod and say “Why of course, she belongs.” He later realized bitterly when she left – that she was much like his mother in that way of making you feel at home. He’d never openly admit it, of course. Instead, he would entertain himself as he had before, with her anger.

“At work still.” Cass responded as she hopped onto the counter near Stiles as he started to make a sandwich. He blinked a little as he noticed that his aunt’s feet didn’t reach the floor but stopped in the middle, against a cabinet; her pants still pooled around her slippers. It was hard to believe this microscopic woman was older.

“Anything serious?”           

“Hell if I know.”

“Where’s the facehugger?”

“I drowned him in the bathtub then came down here for a little snack. Next I’m grabbing a rusty hanger from my bag and go do some backdoor abortions.”

“You’re only giving me more proof that you have no soul.”     

“Fuck you.”

“That would be considered just plain nasty, my incestuous aunt.”

“Go suck a cock.”

“Love you too.” Stiles muttered as he stepped around a large fluff of brown and white fur. “Isn’t that little Shit? Damn, he grew.”

“The name is Shet.” Cass corrected as she shook off her slipper and rubbed the top of the Shetland Shepherd's head with her foot.

“Why would you do that to the poor animal? That’s just cruel and unusual punishment.”

“No, your name is cruel and unusual punishment. I would’ve shot myself in the head a long time ago.”

“That’s not a creative way to go about offing yourself. I would have pegged you for flair. Make a statement! Like scrawling “Society” in blood with your last breath. Society kills, you know.”

“Well, Shet is a prime example of how terribly uncreative I am.”

“How was the trip?”

“The usual.”

“How many times did you get stopped this time around?”

“I would like to say seven.”

“Which one, this time?”

“Sheeran.”

“Why don’t you ever party to Ke$ha or some Spears?”

“Because I like my ears. Thank you very much,” Cass muttered as she leaned the back of her head against the cupboard behind her.

 Stiles shrugged and sat down next to Shet, his right hand resting on the dog’s middle while he proceeded to shovel food into his mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be over Grandma Annabel’s?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be home before ten?”

“How long are you staying?”

“I’m moving back here.”

“You lost your job?”

“Yeah.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re moving back.” (“Why move back?)

“I was late on the rent – two months late. I had gotten fired about four months before. Odd jobs just weren’t doing it anymore. So I had one of two options. Either, risk being out on the street with my son, nowhere to go and no hope of a stable job or move back here and see where my luck goes. Besides, growing up here wasn’t that bad.”

“So, why aren’t you staying at Nana’s?”

“Because, she’ll talk to me.”

“Because she’ll talk to you?”

“‘Oh Cass, he throws cheerio’s. How could you raise such a heathen?’ ‘Oh Cassi dear, you really should think his extracurricular activities.’ Like what the hell!?  He doesn’t need extracurricular activities! He’s three! And I can only imagine what she’ll say about my unemployment. I swear all that woman wants to do is pick at me.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“You say that, because you’re her grandson and not her daughter.”  Cass muttered, her face in her mug, her eyebrows furrowed.

“How’s Uncle Ori?”

“Ori’s good and everything. He met the “one.”

“Again? How many the “ones” is he going to meet?”

“Well there’s only but so many people in the world.”

“Where are you going to live?”

“There’s an apartment that I have in mind. How’s Scott?”

“Gaga over Allison.”

“Is that a band?”

“God, you’re so old!”


End file.
